“Swimmers, take your marks, and GO!” The announcer mumbled as the buzzer screamed it’s signal to leave. I sailed off the block, my heart pumping, and splashed into the water behind me. I was swimming the 50 yard backstroke, and hoping for a personal best time. Diving underneath the surface of the water, I held my breath, and kicked to the surface. My dive had gone perfectly; I just hoped the next 45 yards would too.

As I ascended to the surface, I pumped my arms furiously, gasping for air. The next 20 yards passed in a blur as I kicked with all of my might, each splash soaring through the air. Flipping at the wall, I kicked to the surface. As I broke through the water, my goggles, which had been waterlogged, fell off. I was now swimming blind, doing my best to go straight, while desperately taking strokes. My eyes watered with chlorine, and my cap pulled my hair. I slowed my arms and legs as I grew weary. I was about to give up altogether when I heard someone shout “GO MEGHAN!” Pushing forward with the motivation I needed, I kicked harder than I ever had in my life as my lungs burned without oxygen. The backstroke flags came into view, and I went even faster, my arms and legs cutting through the water for the last 8 strokes.

My hand hit the timing pad with a thud, and I looked up at the clock in wonder, panting as I slowly climbed out of the pool. I had crushed my personal record, and beaten my goal by 0.07 seconds. My coach came into view s she came over to me. We were both ecstatic; I had gotten my first BB time!

That race was my best so far, and it gave me confidence in myself. I’ve gotten better times and used better techniques since then, but breaking the barrier of what I could do lit a spark inside me. It gave me the motivation I needed for practices at 6 am every morning and 6 pm every night. That 50 yard backstroke truly was an unforgettable race.